


Love Alone

by lildemonlili



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends AU, F/F, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 07:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lildemonlili/pseuds/lildemonlili
Summary: To Nayeon, Jeongyeon is like a book, written in a secret language. A mystery that only Nayeon can read. She’s right in every way that Nayeon is wrong, and she’s every waking hour in Nayeon’s mind, looking at Jeongyeon’s back every time she walks away with a promise to come back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this story planned for quite a while and even tried writing it before, but it didn’t work until yesterday when I sat down and wrote all of it in one sitting, the only break being dinner. And now it’s here. I hope you will find some good in the story.

What makes love eternal? The same thing that makes it unconditional, probably. At least that’s what Nayeon learns. She just didn’t know it when they met. But then again; can you expect a flustered eight-year-old to have insight on subjects of soulmates and found family?

Eight is all Nayeon is, when they meet. Or rather, when Nayeon swiftly turns at the sound of the commotion farther down the hallway, and her unicorn backpack hung on her small shoulders, causes a girl to topple over.

“Ow.” The girl winces, landing on her tailbone, breaking the fall with her hands. She looks at her hands for a second, before directing her gaze up at Nayeon. The way her eyes narrow reveal that she’s about to cry. Her chin trembles slightly and she sniffles. It’s obvious that she’s holding back.

Nayeon’s heart races with embarrassment, and she blurts before thinking, desperate to stop the uncomfortable warmth spreading through her body. “Watch where you’re going.”

She’s never been good at shame. Or maybe just never been good with any strong emotion. It makes her do stuff she shouldn’t, and it’s the primary reason she always gets in trouble at home. And it’s the reason she now turns away from the girl and walks away, leaving her on the floor.

That could have been the end of it. It really could. A short story of a girl who made the wrong choice at the age of eight and grew up to be a better person than she was back then. Maybe in some ways, it is. Or maybe that would’ve just been the more merciful story. But the girl on the floor isn’t just any girl. She’s the girl who shows up repeatedly in Nayeon’s mind, the guilt eating away at her. The girl who is suddenly everywhere; on the corner outside the school, waiting for the bus; in the hallways, holding the straps of her backpack so tight and laughing always a little awkwardly; in the yard playing wordlessly with the twins who barely know a word of Korean yet. It’s especially things like the last one, that makes it pretty much impossible for Nayeon to keep convincing herself that the girl probably wasn’t that good of a person anyway. At least, if Nayeon could tell herself that, then who cared that she was hurt. But with every day Nayeon sees her, it becomes increasingly clear that she’s not at all a bad person. She’s the kind of person Nayeon kind of wants to be friends with, if she’s honest. But that’s mostly those times when Nayeon overhears her joke around and can feel the urge to laugh with her. She always controls it though, clenching her stomach muscles and biting the insides of her cheeks.

Three months is all Nayeon can muster, however. Until the guilt (and undeniably curious longing) makes her act. It’s the first time Nayeon has ever really chosen the hard road. The one that hurts herself the most.

“Hey.” Nayeon stands beside her, waiting for the bus. Not that Nayeon has any plans to get on it.

The girl looks confused, turning to face Nayeon. “Uh... Hi?”

Nayeon bites her lip, unsure of what to say next. The girl looks at her lips. Her front teeth are only now grown out fully, and they’re too big for her mouth. She immediately lets her lip go, afraid the girl will think she looks like a bunny. The others say she does. Unkindly so.

“Don’t stare.” Nayeon snaps.

“I wasn’t.” The girl looks suddenly unsure of herself.

Nayeon feels bad again, and the urge to run is making it almost too hard to think clear.

“I’m sorry.” The girl says, her voice shaky suddenly.

Nayeon cringes and stares down at the pavement. That’s what  _ she _ , Nayeon, should’ve said. Sorry. But instead she’s just standing here like some idiot, waiting for someone else to magically fix a situation she’s too much of a coward to fix once actually confronted with the chance to do so.

“I’m…” Nayeon clears her throat, her voice barely a mumble. Why is it so hard to look into her eyes? Maybe because she’s a year younger but almost as tall. Dangly thing, she is, now that Nayeon thinks about it. It’s a little intimidating. Or at least a good enough excuse, instead of admitting what is the cause of intimidation. “I’m- you know… sorry too.”

“It’s okay. You don’t like your teeth?” The girl clearly misunderstands the situation.

“No I don’t. But I meant,” Nayeon feels the words pushing against her vocal chords, begging for her to give in to a rare case of verbal diarrhea. “I’m sorry for knocking you over. And for blaming you. And not apologizing sooner. And for spying on you. I don’t know if you know that I did that. B-but now you do and I’m sorry.”

The girl narrows her eyes, seemingly judging whether Nayeon lost her marbles for real or if this is just a momentary lapse in sanity.

“Why don’t you like your teeth?” The girl then asks. “They’re so cute.”

Nayeon opens her mouth. What kind of answer is that?

“I-“

“I’m Jeongyeon, by the way. Yoo Jeongyeon. What’s your name?”

Nayeon swallows at the hand reached out for her. Why is this girl even being so kind to her for? It makes no sense. But then again, she’s kind to everyone. Or maybe Nayeon really isn’t that bad after all.

“… Im Nayeon.” Nayeon takes the girl’s hand. It’s small and soft, but cool in the summer air, somehow. Nayeon holds it for exactly the respectable amount of time, but Jeongyeon keeps holding on. It’s awkward and Nayeon’s urge to get rid of the feeling on her skin, makes her speak again, another round of rambling on her tongue. “Sorry again for-“

“You don’t have to apologize, unnie.” Jeongyeon breaks her off. Was that why she deflected like that before? Because she doesn’t want an apology. The realization that it was, makes Nayeon’s mind turn blank for a moment. But Jeongyeon is still holding her hand, and Nayeon doesn’t know what to do with this fact.

“I will until you forgive me.” Nayeon insists. Somewhere deep down, this is a selfish act. And Nayeon knows it. That she wants forgiveness for her own peace, and not because she feels like she owes it to Jeongyeon. But what does an eight-year-old know about humanity? Probably just about the same amount as she knows about the reasons why she already loves the girl in front of her.

“Okay. I forgive you.” Jeongyeon finally lets go of Nayeon’s hand. “Do you want to play together tomorrow?”

“Why only tomorrow?” Nayeon asks.

“Because that’s my bus, and you walk home.” Jeongyeon nods her head just as a yellow bus pulls up. She gets on the bus, looking back at Nayeon with a somewhat nervous smile before finding her seat.

Nayeon just stares after her. And from that day, it kind of feels like Nayeon always does that. Stares after Jeongyeon when she walks away. So much so, that she knows the exact amount of baby hairs at her nape. It’s just like that. Jeongyeon walks away and Nayeon looks after her. But at the same time, Jeongyeon always comes back. She’s never gone from Nayeon’s side longer than she has to, and when they’re together, it’s always side by side. Even as Jeongyeon grows over Nayeon’s head, and then some.

Some day, a girl will tell Nayeon, that the first best friend you have, is your real first love. And Nayeon will tell her, that it may very well be, but it doesn’t matter. Because for Nayeon, her best friend, and her first love, is one and the same. She just doesn’t know it yet. After all, is a girl wiser about love at thirteen than she is at eight? Maybe a little. Some would say a lot. But with Jeongyeon’s hand grabbing hers, connecting them across two mattresses, is she supposed to know?

“What’s up?” Nayeon turns her head on the pillow. Jeongyeon is curled on her side, facing Nayeon. It’s the first time they’re spending the night together, and Nayeon insisted they both use mattresses and play holiday.

“You might get scared at night.” Jeongyeon says with a shaky voice. “If I don’t hold your hand, I mean.”

It’s a defense mechanism, to deflect. Nayeon knows that well, by now. She knows Jeongyeon well, and she knows that this is Jeongyeon’s way of admitting that she’s the one who’s scared. They’ve never done well with upfront confessions, their feelings usually wrapped in quips and snark. It’s just a combination of Nayeon’s pride and Jeongyeon’s private soul. Other people don’t understand them much – say they bicker too much. Their parents tell them to speak kinder to each other. But there are no words Nayeon wants to hear more than Jeongyeon’s. Especially when they’re complex, like they are right now. It’s like a secret language that only Nayeon knows how to read.

“You better keep me safe then. I’ll fire you if you don’t.” Nayeon notes, feeling Jeongyeon’s grip tight in her own.

“I don’t work for you.” Jeongyeon makes a face.

“You do right now. You’re my guard dog for bad dreams.” Nayeon smirks.

Jeongyeon makes to pull her hand back, rolling her eyes, but Nayeon doesn’t let her. Jeongyeon looks thankful. Closes her eyes and adjusts her head on the pillow in a way that makes hair fall into her face. Not that she seems bothered by it. But then again, a lot of things bother Jeongyeon, even if she never lets Nayeon know. It’s only the smile when Nayeon turns onto her side and moves the hair from Jeongyeon’s face, that lets her know that she, and only she, knows Jeongyeon’s secret language. It makes her proud. It’s something of Jeongyeon’s that’s only hers.

“Wake me if I start crying.” Jeongyeon mutters, half asleep.

Nayeon promises to do so.

She barely sleeps that night, watching over Jeongyeon. Not that Jeongyeon cries. Or seems to have nightmares of any kind. She just holds onto Nayeon’s hand, lips slightly parted and eyes occasionally fluttering under closed eyelids. She’s growing up prettily, this dangly girl. Nayeon’s dangly girl. And Nayeon wonders if she dreams prettily too. Her waking mind is surely pretty. So maybe her sleeping mind is too.

Some would say that a girl at thirteen has somewhat of a grasp of love. And Nayeon does. Somewhat. Just not enough to know what’s happening to her in the hours she spends watching her sleeping best friend. Or the days that pass. The weeks. The months that come when Nayeon has to start middle school and leave Jeongyeon behind. Yet, even then, they’re still together whenever they can. It’s definitely a lot less than usual though, now only meeting on playgrounds after school and on the weekends when their parents allow them. But Nayeon endures it. It just sucks because it’s the first time Nayeon is actually faced with the fact that  _ unnie _ isn’t just something Jeongyeon calls her for fun. That the name means they have to go through this again in a few years. And again. And again until they’re out of school. But then they’ll be done and grow old together. Nayeon knows that much. She’s only on her fifteenth year and she might not know a whole lot, but she knows that much. She and Jeongyeon are going to be together forever, no matter.

“Couldn’t live without me?” Nayeon asks the first day Jeongyeon spends in their middle school. She has been waiting by the bus stop for Jeongyeon, even though her classes start soon.

Jeongyeon smiles and shakes her head. “You get clingy when I’m gone too long.”

Nayeon feels her cheeks warm, and she hurriedly kicks into the ground. So she missed her best friend a lot the past year. So what? “You think a lot of yourself.”

“If I didn’t, I would never be able to match your ego enough to keep you in check.” Jeongyeon notes with a shrug. She’s gotten a lot more confident in the past year. Faster with her retorts. It makes Nayeon smile.

“Senior life isn’t pretty on you. You seem to have forgotten to respect your seniors.”

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. “Okay, then thank you for picking me up at the bus stop, hag. Oh, I mean,  _ unnie _ .”

Nayeon gapes and reaches out to whack Jeongyeon’s arm. But the younger girl is faster, jumping to the side and laughing. God, it’s been three weeks since Nayeon still heard that laugh. But the memory of the honorific makes the joy subside too fast. It’s just a reminder that she has less than two years until she has to do this again.

“You don’t have to call me that, you know. We’re friends.”

Jeongyeon frowns a little. It’s obvious that she has noticed the change in Nayeon’s voice. Nayeon shrugs to relieve the pain of the knot in her stomach. She’s not sure why it’s so strong this time compared to every other time the last year, but she doesn’t like it.

“I’ll just call you hag, then.”

Nayeon scowls. Loves Jeongyeon. Even if she also chases her hell and high water into her school. Even if she gets written down for being late to her own class, helping Jeongyeon to hers. She loves Jeongyeon first. Feels everything else second.

Maybe that’s all she needs to know at fifteen. That Jeongyeon is love, and that sometimes it hurts a little when she can’t be around her as much as she wants. But a little pain comes with a lot of love, right? Nayeon doesn’t mind a little pain.

But she minds the pain that feels like it’s tearing her apart. The pain she feels at sixteen when Jeongyeon sits on one side of the seesaw, Nayeon on the other, and tells about a boy from her class.

“He says he wants to take me to the amusement park on Saturday.” Jeongyeon leans on the handle of the seesaw, leaning on her arms with big eyes looking over at Nayeon.

It might be the first time in eight years, that words have failed Nayeon around her best friend. What is she supposed to say? She can’t say what she wants, because she’s learned that it’s impolite to talk about herself when someone else has important stuff to say. But something is so wrong inside Nayeon, and she can’t think of anything but that fact. There must be something wrong with her. There must be. What other explanation is there for the fact that her limbs feel like they’ve disconnected, and her insides burn as if put on a hot stove? Why else would she be feeling this unbearable urge to tell Jeongyeon not to go? That Nayeon will take her if she wants to go. They’ve never gone to an amusement park after all. There’s no reason this guy should take her. Nayeon knows his intentions. He just wants to hold her hand. Like Nayeon does. Maybe he even wants to kiss her. Like Nayeon does.

“Nayeon?” Jeongyeon tilts her head on her arm and her cheek squishes against the skin. It’s downright unfair. She’s not supposed to look like that, and definitely not supposed to look at Nayeon like that.

Nayeon feels the tears and curses to herself. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

“Sorry. I spaced.” Nayeon bites the insides of her cheeks, almost immediately tasting iron. But she doesn’t let it show. Her entire world is falling apart inside, and she can’t let Jeongyeon know. How wouldn’t it hurt her to know that she’s the cause? Can they even come back from that? What if Jeongyeon thinks she’s lost it. Or worse … what if she will pity Nayeon?

“You’re not going to get braces, right?” Jeongyeon asks.

The sun sets behind the school, and Nayeon hiccups. Shakes her head. It’s okay. Jeongyeon knows something is up – how could she not? But she doesn’t pry. And Nayeon loves her for that. Loves her for everything. Loves her first. Just isn’t sure how to deal with the fact that this love isn’t exactly what she had expected. That love suddenly isn’t the thing that provides the eternal comfort that they will be together forever, of course, but instead the thing that threatens to pull them apart. That love isn’t just love first and pain second. It’s both first. Love and pain.

There’s much to be said about the choices Nayeon makes after this night. Many can be attributed to her age of only sixteen. The denial. The deflection. The way she convinces herself within a week, that it’s nothing. Of course it helps that Jeongyeon never actually goes to the amusement park with that boy. And by the time she’s done with her first year in high school, it might as well have been a fever dream that she ever felt. At least until Jeongyeon gets off the bus on her first day of high school and Nayeon can do nothing but hug Jeongyeon so tight that she won’t have a chance to see the way Nayeon breaks apart. All she can do is hope that Jeongyeon can’t feel Nayeon’s fragile heart hammering under her shirt. But Nayeon can’t blame the poor heart. It always just wants closer.

“Is the lunch good here?” Jeongyeon asks. Runs her hand soothingly up and down Nayeon’s back. It’s torment. Whoever allowed the body the ability to feel this much pain really needed a good kick in the gonads.

“It’s decent.” Nayeon clears her throat and draws back.

“I think I like this teary welcome more than having to keep your ego in check.” Jeongyeon notes.

She doesn’t get it at all, Nayeon realizes. She hasn’t got a damn clue what her outstretched hand is doing to Nayeon’s insides. Because of course Jeongyeon can’t love her wrong like Nayeon loves her wrong. Because they’ve always been like that. Jeongyeon is right and Nayeon is wrong. They balance each other out. Nayeon is used to being wrong. It’s maybe just that she’s gotten too used to Jeongyeon loving the wrong too. And one day maybe Nayeon will find someone who loves wrong too, and Jeongyeon will still love her too. Jeongyeon can love her right and that girl can love Nayeon wrong and Nayeon will be happy.

It becomes a prayer for her. Over and over again, she says it to herself. Says it so much that she even believes it. The pain subsides. It really does. And by the time Nayeon graduates she can hold Jeongyeon’s hand just fine without her heart being dumb about it. Maybe she can even love right too. At least she’s back to loving Jeongyeon right. Loves sneaking Jeongyeon into the dorm of her college at night when they’re done studying. Loves lying next to her in bed watching dramas with her head on Jeongyeon’s chest. Loves that she isn’t in pain anymore. How foolish wasn’t that? Thinking she could want that. Jeongyeon. That she could want Jeongyeon.

“You asleep?” Jeongyeon asks softly.

“Yes.” Nayeon lies. She only does it because she knows Jeongyeon will tickle her side gently for the lie. It makes her smile so hard her cheeks hurt, when Jeongyeon does it. Just like planned. She’s so predictable. So easily read. Nayeon’s to read. Nayeon’s to predict and understand. Nayeon’s.

“I need to get home soon.” Jeongyeon yawns when Nayeon lazily reaches for the laptop to put on another episode.

“Can’t you just stay here?” Nayeon asks, hugging Jeongyeon’s side harder. “You’re a good pillow.”

“Then I’m at least good for something.” Jeongyeon snorts. “I thought you hated my ass.”

Nayeon chuckles and snuggles into Jeongyeon’s neck. She smells like home. “Oh, I do. Your ass is bony and practically non-existent.”

“You really think I’m going to stay, when you insult me like that?” Jeongyeon adjusts to look down at Nayeon, but the older girl simply leans back enough to make eye-contact with Jeongyeon and then she sticks out her lower lip.

Jeongyeon groans.

“Thank you.” Nayeon gloats, nuzzling into Jeongyeon once again.

“Wait, but won’t your roommate mind that I’m here?” Jeongyeon wonders, reaching to close the laptop.

“She knows your mine.” Nayeon says, definitely too little forethought put into that sentence. But it’s too late now and it’s almost painless to ignore the flutter of butterflies in her stomach. Too easy to ignore the way her thoughts start drifting to a scenario where  _ mine _ got a very different connotation.

“Claiming ownership over me, are you?” Jeongyeon asks, stroking Nayeon’s shoulder.

“Tell me I’m wrong, I dare you.” Nayeon shouldn’t have said it. She knows. It’s a territory she hasn’t touched in years. But she’s twenty now, and she doesn’t mean anything wrong with it. She just- it’s just- No, it is more. It is the wrong love. But she’s barely realized it before Jeongyeon speaks, a chuckle in her voice.

“That’s going to be hard. You don’t take critique well. Plus it would be a lie. I am yours, whether I like it or not. Or you wouldn’t be using me as a pillow right now.”

Nayeon smiles into Jeongyeon’s neck. Is it really wrong love, if it feels like this? Maybe it’s not. Maybe this isn’t wrong love at all. Because there’s no way Jeongyeon loves wrong. She’s the most right thing in Nayeon’s life. Her constant.

“I’m yours too, just so you know.” Nayeon mutters in a moment’s bliss.

“So when you get married, I’ll be the one to give you away?” Jeongyeon asks, laughter in her beautiful voice.

Nayeon buries her head in Jeongyeon’s neck.

“I guess.”

What else is she supposed to say? Jeongyeon doesn’t get it. She still doesn’t get it. And Nayeon is suddenly sixteen again, loving her best friend wrong. Loving her more than ever, if possible. But there’s a different feeling that spreads through Nayeon at Jeongyeon’s fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve. Pain. Actual physical pain in her heart so strong it makes her nauseous.

It was an easy equation once. Jeongyeon is love. Love is first and pain is second. Then it got messed up, and even though Jeongyeon was still love, love and pain were both first. But this… It’s not that love and pain share first. It’s that love  _ is _ her pain. That Jeongyeon is pain.

Jeongyeon still stays the night. Nayeon doesn’t know how to ask her not to. Doesn’t want her to know the pain she causes. Jeongyeon never did anything wrong. She never meant to hurt Nayeon. So why should she have to carry around that guilt? She just never saw Nayeon like that. She never imagined that there was a possibility of a reality where Nayeon didn’t hate the word  _ unnie _ because it made her feel old; where she didn’t go with Jeongyeon to the amusement park just because the guy cancelled; where she thought about how it would be to actually be Jeongyeon’s. The way someone would if they didn’t have to give her up – but got to receive her, at the end of the altar.

It wasn’t Jeongyeon’s fault, that she didn’t see – didn’t feel. And besides, Nayeon had done it once before. She could do it again. She could get over this again. Because more than anything, Nayeon wanted to keep the right love. She wanted to keep loving Jeongyeon right, so that one day, she could be for Jeongyoen what she needed. So they could grow old together, the way they were supposed to.

You can’t expect an eight-year-old to know much about soulmates and found families, but Nayeon had come to find, that even at twenty, she didn’t know much about it. She knew that Jeongyeon was it, but she didn’t know much else. Had barely grown wiser. Just less flustered. But that Jeongyeon was her family, was all she had to hold onto for now. And it pulled her through an entire year of loving Jeongyeon in more ways than intended. But it didn’t seem like there was a lot of getting over her this time.

Maybe that was the reason it all broke apart, in the end. Maybe that’s what made the cup overflow the night Jeongyeon came back from a night out with her classmates and flopped down on Nayeon’s bed with fear in her eyes.

“You okay?” Nayeon asks.

Jeongyeon takes her hand. Holds it as tight as the night she admitted to getting night terrors.

“Jeongyeon?” A lump settles uncomfortably in Nayeon’s throat. It still hurts when Jeongyeon holds her hand, but it never occurs to Nayeon to pull away her hand. It’s her job after all, to keep Jeongyeon safe like this.

“I- Nayeon, you have to still love me.”

Nayeon frowns. She always does. Why is Jeongyeon even asking this? She can’t be that slow, right?

“Promise me.”

Nayeon sits up now, fear materializing in her heart. What the hell did Jeongyeon do to make her this scared?

“I promise.” Nayeon watches as Jeongyeon shuts her eyes with a shivering sigh. “Jeongyeon, you know I always love you, right? Always.”

“I know. I just needed to hear it. I need you to still love me, when I tell you- fuck. Nayeon, I met a girl.”

It takes everything in Nayeon not to pull her hand away. To hold Jeongyeon’s heart together while her own breaks into a million pieces. She can feel it. Can feel how little pieces are cut slowly and painfully from her heart, turning to lead as they drop into the pit of her stomach, the pain so bad she just might throw up. It’s wrong. She’s all wrong. Not because she’s a girl, but because she’s her. There’s no wrong love to hide behind. It’s just love – it’s all love. And she’s wrong for the girl she loves so right. The girl who begged for her love just now. She wants Nayeon’s love. Just not all of it.

“Nayeon?” Jeongyeon sits up now too. Doesn’t let go of Nayeon’s hand.

Nayeon swallows, her throat dry and painful. What is she supposed to say? She can’t say what her insides are screaming. She can’t cry and ask Jeongyeon why she couldn’t just kiss Nayeon if she wanted to kiss a girl? Why couldn’t it be Nayeon she wanted to kiss? Why was Nayeon always so fucking wrong that she wasn’t even right for the one person in the world she wanted more than anything. The one person she had but never dreamed she could have.

“I know it’s a mess,” Jeongyeon’s voice trembles with nerves and happiness all mixed together in a big mess, “that it’s- but it just happened. She’s so- I don’t know, we just hit it off, and for the past week we’ve been talking a lot and tonight she kissed me and it felt so right? She’s really frustrating sometimes but at the same time she’s so fascinating and-“

“Please stop talking.” Nayeon whimpers. It’s the best she can do.

“You don’t approve that she’s a she?” the fear in Jeongyeon’s voice reminds Nayeon of their childhood. When Jeongyeon was scared she had insulted Nayeon by staring at her front teeth. It awakens an instinct in Nayeon that she has no control of.

“No, it’s fine, I don’t mind that.” Why is it so hard to keep the tears from falling? If she had just majored in drama, maybe she could’ve gotten some tips on how to handle this kind of situation and not look like a fool with tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I got a bad grade today and my mom was on my ass and- you know PMS and that shit. I’ll be fine. I am fine.”

How is she supposed to ruin Jeongyeon’s happiness now?

“You sure?” Jeongyeon’s voice shakes.

“Hundred, I get it.” Nayeon insists, wiping her cheeks aggressively with her free hand. Jeongyeon still has the other in hers, and it hurts so much she can barely keep from pulling away. She couldn’t be more embarrassed now if she tried. “Trust me, it’s okay that you like girls. There’s nothing wrong with it. At all.”

“No, I mean are you sure, you’re fine?” Jeongyeon’s voice sounds downright suspicious now. Maybe Nayeon should just tell her. Come clean. But what if it turns weird? What if Jeongyeon thinks Nayeon ruined something by saying it?

“Sorry, I don’t mean to scare you, I’m just so tired.”

The last part isn’t a lie.

“You can’t tell me?” Jeongyeon sounds hurt.

Something snaps inside Nayeon. Some string of self-control she’s been holding onto.

“You really don’t see it do you? You never- you never saw it.” Nayeon whispers, her voice breaking halfway through. Her hand trembles and Jeongyeon’s grasp feels like it’s going to be the end of her. But there’s nothing she can do but continue down this road she’s started. “I wish you had come to tell me… that it was me you wanted to kiss.”

Jeongyeon’s eyes narrow for a second, and then she presses her lips together. There’s defeat in the way she looks down at their hands. She lets Nayeon’s hand go. Nayeon hates it more than anything.

“I’m so sorry.” Jeongyeon’s voice is pitched and her eyes shut tight.

“You never did see, did you?” Nayeon asks monotonously. She knows the answer already.

“No…”

Nayeon is twenty-one years old when her heart breaks beyond repair; when Jeongyeon leaves the room with tears on her face and a promise to give Nayeon space.

Everything hurts. Nayeon’s empty hand. The place on her cheeks where Jeongyeon clumsily tried to dry her tears, and her arms and back where Jeongyeon’s arms held when they said goodbye. The place on her forehead where the skin of Jeongyeon’s neck touched, as Nayeon allowed herself a final second of safety before Jeongyeon left and took her world with her. And now Nayeon is here. Alone. With all the love in the world for a girl who never saw her as more.

She always knew, deep down. That Jeongyeon never saw her. This is just the day she couldn’t hide the truth anymore. The truth that for every day Jeongyeon never saw Nayeon, Nayeon  _ always _ saw her. And it’s not that Jeongyeon doesn’t love Nayeon. Nayeon knows she does – with all her heart. It’s just not like that. You can’t control your feelings, and you can’t make others feel what they don’t.

But it doesn’t change the fact that Nayeon loves her. Eternally. Unconditionally. To the root of her soul and the tips of her fingers.

Jeongyeon keeps her word. She gives Nayeon space. Doesn’t try to contact her or say hi when they bump into each other. And even if it’s awkward, Nayeon can’t deny the fact that it helps. Or maybe it’s just that one little voice in her head, Jeongyeon’s voice, her words right before she left.  _ I’m always here. When you come back _ . It’s what Nayeon fights for with every stolen glance. To come back to her best friend. To stand side by side instead of looking after her.. It’s just not very easy to judge if she likes Jeongyeon’s face much, when she’s suddenly standing there in the door to Nayeon’s dorm room, an unreadable expression on said face. 

“… I’m sorry.”

 


	2. Eternal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my birthday gift for myself, to write the ending for this fic. Never has so much of myself lived in a character as in this fic, and making this ending has been one of the scariest things ever. So please love it a lot, and to those who read with me on twitter, thank you for keeping me company.

“I’m sorry.”

Nayeon stares at her best friend as if she’s a stranger. Maybe that’s all she is by now. 

“I know.” Nayeon tries to let her off the hook. Makes to close the door again.

“Don’t keep me out. Please.” Jeongyeon’s voice cracks and her foot blocks the door.

“Don’t make me let you in.” Nayeon pleads. It hurts too much too fast. 

How much pain hasn’t she inflicted upon herself for the love she feels for this girl, only to be told that it wasn’t the love that was wrong. That it was her. She can’t bear that. She can’t stand being wrong in Jeongyeon’s eyes. She’s the only one who never- who always saw her.

Tears fall before Nayeon realizes it, and she isn’t sure which one of them start. But they’re crying. On either side of a half-closed door, one trying to keep it open and one trying to close it. And Nayeon knows what to do. Because Jeongyeon is right. She’s always right.

Nayeon opens the door. Crosses her arms and walks into the apartment, turning her back to Jeongyeon. It’s all Nayeon can do to shield herself from the pain it causes her to have Jeongyeon so close. The pain she feels knowing she can’t touch her. That she can’t keep her safe and hold her close and disappear in the softness of her skin and calming strokes of her hands. 

It’s all she wants.

“Nayeon?”

Nayeon sobs. The mention of her own name on Jeongyeon’s lips, not even with the infamous ‘ _ unnie _ ’ after; it’s enough to break her apart. 

“I miss you so much.”

Jeongyeon’s voice is a shivery whisper, a materialization of the only thought going through Nayeon, screaming in her head and clenching at her heart. She’s close. Nayeon’s knees shake, and the self-hatred tears her in even smaller pieces. She’s so pathetic. So weak. So unworthy. So broken in Jeongyeon’s arms as they close around her shoulders and front.

Nayeon’s limbs give in and her body keels forwards, only held up by Jeongyeon’s grasp.

“Nayeon.” Jeongyeon tries again, her voice high pitched and wet.

“Let go.” Nayeon whimpers. “Please, let me go.”

“I can’t. Nayeon, don’t make me.” Jeongyeon begs. Nayeon knows that if she asks again, Jeongyeon will obey. that she’ll let go. “Please, I can’t let you fall without me.”

“I just want to be enough.” Nayeon can barely get the words out. She’s no longer Nayeon. She’s just pieces of herself on the floor, waiting to be picked up or swept into a bag and taken away. There’s nothing left. Just pain.

“You are.”

Nayeon closes her eyes, the tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t get it. She still doesn’t get it. And maybe that’s what makes Nayeon’s brain shut down completely. Makes her somehow pick up the pieces of herself and support herself, turning with an almost superhuman exertion of strength, and face Jeongyeon.

Nayeon knows it’s not what she meant, Jeongyeon. That it’s not the kind of ‘enough’ Jeongyeon meant. But she needs Jeongyeon to see. She knows, but she doesn’t see. Doesn’t understand the pain.

Jeongyeon’s lips are as soft as Nayeon had ever dreamed they would be, when she presses her own against them. Soft and wet and unmoving.

“You need to stop now, Yoo Jeongyeon.” Nayeon whispers against the lips of her best friend. “You need to stop, because there isn’t a single second I see you, where I don’t want to be right here. Where I want to feel you. Taste you. Hold you. So you need to-“

“Stop.” The word puffs onto Nayeon’s lips.

Nayeon nods and draws back. But Jeongyeon shakes her head.

“You.” Jeongyeon says. “You need to stop.”

Nayeon hates herself. “I ca-“

“Shut up and listen.” Jeongyeon says. “You need to stop assuming. Stop assuming I’m here because I miss my best friend. Stop assuming you’re wrong all the time. Stop assuming how I see you.”

“I’m not assuming.” Nayeon protests, the anger slowly building inside her. “You said it yourself. You never saw me.”

“And I never did.”

“Then what exactly am I assuming?!” Nayeon’s voice breaks as she raises her voice, angry tears streaming anew down her cheeks. She wants to keep yelling. Wants to scare Jeongyeon away so she will never come back. It’s too hard.

“I never knew.” Jeongyeon says. And to Nayeon’s horror, she raises her hands to cup Nayeon’s face. The touch burns. “Nayeon, I know now. And I see you now. And I miss you. I already miss you.”

Jeongyeon’s thumb brushes over Nayeon’s lip at the last sentence.

Nayeon can’t breathe. She’s suffocating in Jeongyeon’s hands. In her hold. There’s too much water under the bridge. Too much pain. 

It’s over.

“I can’t do this, Jeongyeon. Don’t make me do this.”

“You don’t want me?” Jeongyeon asks, her voice small and her hands falling from Nayeon’s face.

“You don’t want me.” Nayeon corrects.

“Stop.” Jeongyeon’s voice rumbles dangerously. And then she yells. “Stop taking my feelings away from me. Stop walking away from me because of a reality that isn’t here anymore. Stop saying I’m not in love with you, when I’ve barely slept for weeks because all I could think about was you.”

Nayeon stands paralyzed by Jeongyeon’s words. Her skin prickles where Jeongyeon held her. As if her hold left a physical print on her.

“Love me.” Jeongyeon pleads with pain in her voice and hands that almost reach Nayeon, suddenly scared to touch. “Dare to love me right, instead of all of this crap. Love me. I know you love me. I’m right here. Please.”

The scene plays in third person in front of Nayeon’s eyes, and time stops to let her study Jeongyeon’s face. Her face, her neck and her chest are covered with angry red spots, and her skin is swollen and pale under the redness. Her hair is undone. Her lips are chapped. She’s broken. Just like Nayeon. Because of Nayeon.

In a fraction of a second Nayeon is back inside her own body, and the lack of touch is unbearable to the point of her own extinction.

It makes her move. Makes her kiss Jeongyeon with such force that she stumbles backwards. But her arms are already safe around Nayeon as if she had always been there, with the soul purpose of catching her. As if she’s waited her whole life for Nayeon to tell her there was something to catch. Someone to love.

Nayeon isn’t sorry. Has no regrets. Isn’t guilty. In this frozen forever there’s nothing wrong with her. With them. Everything from the desperate movements of their lips to the hands trying to find impossible ways to get closer; it’s right.

It’s a thousand ‘I love you’s and an infinity lost in gasping breaths and tangled bodies before time unfreezes and reality kicks in.

And reality is, that Jeongyeon isn’t her savior; isn’t the thing that keeps her from falling apart. This night isn’t the last where Nayeon feels wrong. Where she hates herself. It’s not even the last night where they consider that maybe it’s too hard, after all. Where Nayeon tries to spare Jeongyeon most of all from the storm inside of her.

It doesn’t work like that. 

Jeongyeon isn’t there to fix her. But she’s there. And she’s a hand to hold when the nights get scary; the smell of homemade food and the face on the bus; the sniggering laughter and the slowest heartbeat. She’s home. 

It’s not magic. 

It’s never flawless. 

But it’s eternal.

  
  



End file.
